THR331 * Directing: Laws, Rules, Principles * Topics : Stage Event = Subjective Time + Dramatic Space * amazon.com *
* audition pages in acting directories
Auditions page in Theatre Theory

ACTING slideshow

... calendar LUL FORMS 2009 :

for rep company...

It's different.

"Dating" and "Marriage" -- comparing.

...

Five Corners:

1. Actor

2. You

3. Show

4. Script

5. Ensemble

...

Auditioning steps/stages

"Tests" and "Exams"

notes

Director's notes on my "auditions" pages :

showcases -- shows.vtheatre.net

...


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auditions and auditioning, director's POV

Casting Directors? That's for movies!

* for... ACTORS : ACTIN 2 & ACTING 3

What to look in actors for auditioning for a show?

... Roserncrantz and Guidenstern are Dead (sample)

2008 R/G are Dead shows.vtheatre.net/stoppard
 (POLONIUS breaks that up by entering upstage followed by the TRAGEDIANS
and HAMLET.)
     POLONIUS (entering): Come, sirs.
     HAMLET: Follow him, friends. We'll hear a play tomorrow.
     (Aside to the PLAYER, who is the last of the TRAGEDIANS.)
     Dost thou hear me, old friend? Can you play "The Murder of Gonzago"?
     PLAYER: Ay, my lord.
     HAMLET: We'll ha't tomorrow night. You could for a  need study a speech
of some dozen or sixteen lines which I would set down and insert in't, could
you not?
     PLAYER: Ay, my lord.
     HAMLET: Very well. Follow that lord, and look you mock him not.
     (The  PLAYER crossing  downstage,  notes ROS  and  GUIL.  Stops. HAMLET
crossing downstage addresses them without a pause.)
     HAMLET: My good friends, I'll leave you  till  tonight. You are welcome
to Elsinore.
     ROS: Good, my lord.
     (HAMLET goes.)
secondary characters

from act 2

monologue ?

   ROS: A  Christian,  a  Moslem and a Jew  chanced to meet  in  a  closed
carriage....  "Silverstein!"  cried the Jew, "Who's  your  friend?" ... "His
name's Abdullah", replied  the Moslem, "but he's no friend of  mine since he
became a convert." (He leaps up again, stamps his  foot and shouts  into the
wings.) All right, we know  you're in there! Come out  talking! (Pause.)  We
have no control. None at all.... (He paces.) Whatever  became of  the moment
when one  first knew  about  death? There must  have  been one, a moment, in
childhood when  it first  occurred to you that you don't go on for  ever. It
must  have  been  shattering  - stamped into one's memory. And  yet  I can't
remember it. It never occurred to me at all. What does one  make of that? We
must be  born with an intuition of mortality. Before we  know the words  for
it, before we know that there are words, out we come, bloodied and squalling
with the knowledge that for all the compasses in the world, there's only one
direction, and  time  is  its  only  measure.  (He  reflects,  getting  more
desperate and rapid.) A Hindu, a Buddhist  and a lion-tamer chanced to meet,
in a circus on  the Indo-Chinese border. (He  breaks out.) They're taking us
for granted! Well,  I won't stand for it!  In future, notice will be  taken.
(He wheels again to face into the wings.) Keep out, then! I forbid anyone to
enter! (No one comes - Breathing heavily.) That's better....

... acting is reacting : R/G in --

Immediately,  behind  him   a  grand  procession  enters,  principally
CLAUDIUS, GERTRUDE,  POLONIUS and OPHELIA. CLAUDIUS takes  ROS's elbow as he
passes and is immediately deep in  conversation: the  context is Shakespeare
Act  III,  Scene  i. GUIL  still  faces front as  CLAUDIUS,  ROS, etc., pass
upstage and turn.)
     GUIL: Death followed by eternity ... the worst of both worlds. It is  a
terrible thought.
     (He turns upstage in time  to take over the conversation with CLAUDIUS.
GERTRUDE and ROS head downstage.)
     GERTRUDE: Did he receive you well?
     ROS: Most like a gentleman.
     GUIL (returning  in time  to  take it up): But with much forcing of his
disposition.
     ROS (a flat lie and  he  knows it and shows it, perhaps catching GUIL's
eye): Niggard of question, but of our demands most free in his reply.
     GERTRUDE: Did you assay him to any pastime?
     ROS: Madam, it so fell out that certain players
     We o'erraught on the way: of these we told him
     And there did seem in him a kind of joy
     To hear of it. They are here about the court,
     And, as I think, they have already order
     This night to play before him.
     POLONIUS: 'Tis most true
     And he beseeched me to entreat your Majesties
     To hear and see the matter.
     CLAUDIUS: With all my heart, and it doth content me
     To hear him so inclined.
     Good gentlemen, give him a further edge
     And drive his purpose into these delights.
     ROS: We shall, my lord.
     CLAUDIUS (leading out procession):
     Sweet Gertrude, leave us, too,
     For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither,
     That he, as t'were by accident, may here
     Affront Ophelia....
     (Exeunt CLAUDIUS and GERTRUDE.)
... improv

games

(HAMLET enters. ROS is a little dismayed.)
     What have you done, my lord, with the dead body?
     HAMLET: Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin.
     ROS: Tell  us where 'tis, that we may take it thence and bear it to the
chapel.
     HAMLET: Do not believe it.
     ROS: Believe what?
     HAMLET:  That I can keep your counsel and not mine own. Besides,  to be
demanded of a sponge, what replication should be made by the son of a king?
     ROS: Take you me for a sponge, my lord?
     HAMLET: Ay, sir, that soaks up the king's countenance, his rewards, his
authorities. But such officers do the King best service in the end. He keeps
them, like  an  ape,  in the corner  of  his jaw,  first mouthed, to be last
swallowed. When he needs what you have gleaned, it is but squeezing you and,
sponge, you shall be dry again.
     ROS: I understand you not, my lord.
     HAMLET: I am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in a foolish ear.
     ROS: My lord, you must tell  us where the body is and go with us to the
King.
     HAMLET:  The body is with the King, but the  King is not with the body.
The King is a thing-
     GUIL: A thing, my lord -?
     HAMLET: Of nothing. Bring me to him.
     (HAMLET  moves  resolutely  towards  one  wing.  They  move  with  him,
shepherding.  Just  before  they reach the  exit,  HAMLET, apparently seeing
CLAUDIUS approaching from off  stage, bends low in  a  sweeping bow. ROS and
GUIL, cued by HAMLET,  also  bow deeply-a sweeping ceremonial bow with their
cloaks swept  round  them. HAMLET,  however, continues the movement  into an
about-turn and walks off in the opposite direction. ROS and GUIL, with their
heads low, do not notice. No one comes on. ROS  and GUIL  squint upwards and
find that they are bowing to nothing.
     CLAUDIUS enters behind  them. At his  first words they leap up and do a
double-take.)
     CLAUDIUS: How now? What hath befallen?
     ROS: Where the body is bestowed, my lord, we cannot get from him.
     CLAUDIUS: But where is he?
     ROS  (fractional  hesitation):  Without, my lord; guarded to know  your
pleasure.
     CLAUDIUS (moves): Bring him before us.
     (This hits ROS  between the eyes but only his eyes  show it.  Again his
hesitation  is  fractional. And  then  with  great deliberation he turns  to
GUIL.)
     ROS: Ho! Bring in the lord.
     (Again  there is  a fractional  moment  in which ROS is  smug, CUIL  is
trapped and betrayed. GUIL opens his mouth and closes it.)
     (The situation is saved;)
     (HAMLET, escorted, is  marched in just  as CLAUDIUS  leaves. HAMLET and
his ESCORT cross the stage and go out, following CLAUDIUS.)
     (Lighting changes to Exterior.)

from act 3 --

mono :

 GUIL: Well,  yes, and then  again  no. (Airily.) Let us  keep things in
proportion. Assume, if you like, that they're going to kill him. Well, he is
a man, he is  mortal, death comes to us all, etcetera,  and  consequently he
would  have died anyway, sooner or later. Or to look  at it from  the social
point of view-he's  just one man among  many,  the loss would be well within
reason  and convenience. And then again, what is so terrible about death? As
Socrates so philosophically put it, since we don't know what death is, it is
illogical  to fear it. It might be... very nice. Certainly it  is  a release
from the burden  of life, and, for the godly,  a haven  and a  reward. Or to
look at it another way - we are  little men,  we don't know the ins and outs
of the matter,  there  are  wheels within  wheels, etcetera  - it  would  be
presumptuous  of us to interfere with the designs of fate or even of  kings.
All in  all, I think  we'd be well advised to  leave well alone. Tie  up the
letter - there -  neatly -  like that -  They won't notice the  broken seal,
assuming you were in character.
... finale :
 GUIL (snatches it,  opens  it):  A letter  - yes -  that's true. That's
something...  a   letter...  (reads).  "As  England  is  Denmark's  faithful
tributary... as love between them like the palm might flourish,  etcetera...
that on  the knowing  of this contents, without  delay  of any kind,  should
those bearers, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, put to sudden death-"
     (He double takes.  ROS snatches the letter.  GUIL snatches it back. ROS
snatches it halfback. They read it again and look up.)
     (The PLAYER gets to his feet and walks over to his barrel  and kicks it
and shouts into it.)
     PLAYER: They've gone-It's all over!
     (One by one the players emerge, impossibly, from the barrel, and form a
casually menacing  circle  round ROS and  GUIL who  are  still  appalled and
mesmerised.)
     GUIL (quietly): Where we went wrong was getting on a boat. We can move,
of  course, change direction,  rattle about, but  our movement  is contained
within a  larger one  that  carries us along as  inexorably as the wind  and
current...
     ROS:  They  had it in for  us, didn't  they? Right from the  beginning.
Who'd have thought that we were so important?
     GUIL:  But  why? Was it all  for this?  Who are we that so much  should
converge on our little deaths? (In anguish to the PLAYER.) Who are we?
     PLAYER: You are Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. That's enough.
     GUIL: No - it is not  enough. To be told  so  little - to such an end -
and still, finally, to be denied an explanation...
     PLAYER: In our experience, most things end in death.
     GUIL (fear, vengeance, scorn): Your experience?-Actors!
     (He snatches a dagger from the PLAYER's belt and holds the point at the
PLAYER's throat: the PLAYER backs and GUIL advances, speaking more quietly.)
     I'm talking  about death-and you've  never experienced  that.  And  you
cannot act it. You  die a thousand casual deaths-with none of that intensity
which squeezes out life... and no  blood runs cold anywhere. Because even as
you die you know that you will come back in a different hat. But no one gets
up  after  death-there  is  no  applause-there  is  only  silence  and  some
second-hand clothes, and that's - death -
     (And he pushes  the blade in  up  to the  hilt. The PLAYER stands  with
huge, terrible eyes, clutches at the wound as the blade withdraws: he  makes
small weeping sounds and falls to his knees, and then right down:)
     (While he is dying, GUIL, nervous, high, almost hysterical,  wheels  on
the TRAGEDIANS-)
     If we have a destiny,  then so had he - and if  this is ours, then that
was his - and if there are no explanations for  us, then  let there  be none
for him -
     (The TRAGEDIANS watch the PLAYER  die:  they watch  with some interest.
The  PLAYER  finally  lies  still.  A  short  moment  of  silence.  Then the
tragedians start  to applaud with genuine  admiration. The PLAYER stands up,
brushing himself down.)
     PLAYER  (modestly): Oh, come, come, gentlemen -  no flattery  - it  was
merely competent-
     (The  tragedians are  stilt congratulating  him. The PLAYER  approaches
GUIL, who stands rooted, holding the dagger.)
     What did you think? (Pause.) You see, it is the kind they do believe in
- it's what is expected.
     (He holds his hand out  for  the dagger. GUIL slowly puts the  point of
the dagger on to  the  PLAYER's hand, and pushes  ... the  blade slides back
into the handle. The PLAYER smiles, reclaims the dagger.)
     For a moment you thought I'd - cheated.
     (ROS relieves his own tension with loud nervy laughter.)
     ROS: Oh, very good!  Very good! Took me in completely  - didn't he take
you in completely-(claps his hands.) Encore! Encore!
     PLAYER (activated,  arms spread, the professional): Deaths for all ages
and  occasions!  Deaths  by suspension,  convulsion, consumption,  incision,
execution, asphyxiation and malnutrition-! Climatic carnage, by  poison  and
by steel-! Double deaths by duel-! Show!
     (ALFRED, still in his queen's costume, dies by poison: the PLAYER, with
rapier, kills the "KING" and duels with a fourth  TRAGEDIAN,  inflicting and
receiving a wound: the two  remaining tragedians, the two "SPIES" dressed in
the same coats as ROS and GUIL, are stabbed, as before.)
     (And the  light  is  fading  over  the  deaths which  take  place right
upstage.)
     (Dying  amid the dying-tragically; romantically.) So there's an end  to
that-it's commonplace: light goes with life, and in the winter of your years
the dark comes early...
     GUIL (tired,  drained, but stilt an edge of impatience; over the mime):
No... no... not for us, not like  that. Dying is not romantic,  and death is
not a  game which will  soon be  over... Death is not anything ... death  is
not... It's the absence  of presence,  nothing more ... the  endless time of
never coming back ... a gap you  can't see, and when the wind blows  through
it, it makes no sound...
     (The  light has  gone upstage. Only GUIL and ROS are visible  as ROS's;
clapping falters to silence.)
     (Small pause.)
     ROS: That's it, then, is it?
     (No answer, he looks out front.)
     The  sun's  going  down. Or  the earth's coming up,  as the fashionable
theory has it.
     (Small pause.) Not that it makes any difference.
     (Pause.)
     What was it all about? When did it begin?
     (Pause, no answer.)
     Couldn't we just stay put? I mean no one is going  to come on and  drag
us off.... They Ml just have to wait. We're still young ... fit... we've got
years...
     (Pause. No answer.)
     (A cry.) We've nothing wrong! We didn't harm anyone. Did we?
     GUIL: I can't remember.
     (ROS pulls himself together.)
     ROS:  All  right, then. I  don't care. I've had enough. To tell you the
truth, I'm relieved.
     (And he disappears from view.)
     (GUIL does not notice.)
     GUIL: Our  names  shouted  in  a certain  dawn  ...  a  message  ...  a
summons... there must have been  a moment,  at the beginning, where we could
have said-no. But somehow we missed it.
     (He looks round and sees he is alone.)
     Rosen--?
     Guil--?
     (He gathers himself.)
     Well, we'll know better next time. Now you see me, now you -
     (And disappears.)
     (Immediately the whole stage is lit up, revealing, upstage, arranged in
the approximate positions last  held by the dead  TRAGEDIANS, the tableau of
court and corpses which is the last scene of "Hamlet".)
     (That  is: The KING, QUEEN, LAERTES  and HAMLET all dead. HORATIO holds
HAMLET. FORTINBRAS is there.)
     (So are two AMBASSADORS from England.)
     AMBASSADORS: The signal is dismal;
     and our affairs from England come too late.
     The ears are senseless that should give us hearing to
     tell him his commandment is fulfilled, that
     Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are dead.
     Where should we have our thanks?
     HORATIO: Not from his  mouth, had it the ability of  life to thank you:
He never  gave commandment  for their  death. But  since, so jump upon  this
bloody question, you from the  Polack wars, and you  from England,  are here
arrived, give order that these bodies high on a stage be placed to the view;
and let me  speak to the yet unknowing world how these things came about: so
shall  you  hear  of  carnal,  bloody  and  unnatural  acts,  of  accidental
judgements, casual slaughters, of deaths put on by cunning and forced cause,
and, in this upshot,  purposes mistook  fallen on the inventors' heads:  all
this can I truly deliver.
     (But during  the above speech  the play  fades, overtaken  by  dark and
music.)

     THE END

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